La Raza Unida's work lives on

Updated 9:43 pm, Saturday, July 7, 2012

When I was a kid visiting my grandma in Laredo, I saw a sign that read “Viva la Raza Unida!”

It was the mid-70s, back when you could still go to dinner in Nuevo Laredo without needing to slide a cookie sheet or Kevlar under your shirt.

The sign, a loud and proud white rectangle with fiery red letters, was seared to a phone pole by a block-walker's staples and the ardent summer sun. It cried out to a kid who spoke Spanish at home and English at school, a kid just old enough to know how cool it is to be able to read random street signs.

Especially in Laredo, where there are plenty of signs in Spanish.

I asked my dad what the sign meant, and he dismissed the question with a vague remark about those types who like to get involved in politics and something about Mexican Americans and long-haired college students who call themselves Chicanos. My ultra-patriotic dad, a career-building Navy man who had already earned a yellow ribbon with green borders and red stripes, has never had much tolerance for activism or any anti-establishment set. But in fairness, few drivers have much tolerance for yapping kids in the Laredo heat, although three-digit temperatures didn't stop him from driving to Laredo for his 50th class reunion last weekend.

I read more than street signs these days, so I have a better perception of La Raza Unida, the political party that challenged the status quo back when I was still sounding out words on billboards. I get how and why these upstarts changed the political landscape in South Texas and beyond. I've listened to people tell stories about “how things used to be.” And I'm old enough to understand the dicey tightrope that often pops up between assimilation and cultural pride.

That old red-white-and-fervent sign came to mind last week with the news of a La Raza Unida reunion. The gathering was set to mark the 40th anniversary of the party's first gubernatorial run, when the candidate was Ramsey Muñiz and the party's momentum was still sizzling. The gathering took on the label of “el ultimo adios” — the final farewell — because most of those who made La Raza Unida happen are into their golden years.

Although finality wasn't an overriding theme, that was also the case at that aforementioned 50th class reunion.

When we look back on those times that shape our world views — childhood visits to peaceful, bilingual border towns, maturity-inducing high-school and wartime experiences, or much-needed political awakenings — we think of the people who were around to encourage, educate and shape us at that time of enlightenment. We remember how cool things were or how awful things were, and how we felt when we first understood our roles in the big picture.

Reunions are a way of honoring those moments, and who we became because of them.

La Raza Unida might not have lived up to its initial expectations, but it took a stand that needed to be taken. Never mind el ultimo adios; the effects live on.